


Cold Mornings and a Spiteful Hawke

by KiraAsael



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Hawke has cold hands and knows how to use them, M/M, Morning Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-06
Updated: 2016-02-06
Packaged: 2018-05-18 12:52:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5929150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KiraAsael/pseuds/KiraAsael
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fenris and Lucius Hawke wake before the sun rises for the day. Hawke is a cuddly bastard with cold fingers, and he knows how to use them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold Mornings and a Spiteful Hawke

Had it actually been morning the sun would have been shining through the window, but it certainly wasn’t morning and there was certainly no sign of the sun. Fenris was far too used to waking up before any normal person would even consider getting up. An unfortunate habit of his life before living in Kirkwall. The sun wouldn’t rise for another hour or so, and neither would Hawke. Whom speaking of which had the whole of himself wrapped around Fenris. This man was a living furnace. Fenris was thankful it was the dead of winter, or he wouldn’t be too appreciative of Hawke’s cuddling antics. Antics which happened to include that unkempt beard pressed right into the back of his neck and their legs tangled together.  
Fenris knew he was going to be in that position for a while. Hawke slept like a bear – though thankfully didn’t snore like one – and nothing less than the whole of an army marching through his foyer could wake him up. With his massive arms wrapped around Fenris there was no hope for being able to get up. Not that he hadn’t tried before. Oh no he’s tried many times, but the more he moved the more Hawke seemed to hold on. There was no escape, and Fenris had finally resigned himself to his fate.  
A fate that may be short lived; based on Hawke’s fidgeting and grumbling.  
“G’morning” came the grumble from the human shaped bear known as Lucius Hawke.  
“I’m surprised you actually woke up.” Fenris quipped, as he made an attempted to turn and face Hawke. The larger man's armed loosened enough for him to move. “What has the world come to? Next Anders will admit his manifestos are absolute rubbish.” Stated only with a greatest dead-pan sarcasm Fenris could muster.  
“I wake up early for once and you act like the world is going to end. Be still my beating heart” came the equally sarcastic reply, as he leaned in to press a kiss to Fenris’ nose. He’d kiss him on the mouth had Fenris not complained about his horrid morning breath before. “How early is it anyways?”  
“Early enough.”  
“How early is early enough?”  
“Too early.”  
“Well don’t you just have a way with words, love? But I see your point it’s still dark out isn’t it? Guess we ought to just go back to sleep!” He says and he hurriedly presses his face back into Fenris’ neck and rolling right over onto him - crushing the small elf with the bulk of himself in an attempt to smother the lithe elf with affection. Both of them laughing as Hawke began pressing kisses on Fenris’ neck and peppering them all over his face. Concern for his morning breathe flying right out the window.  
After his great impersonation of an excited puppy, Hawke rolled back over – pulling Fenris with him. Fenris laid right on his broad chest. He could lay on the whole of Hawke’s body and never actually touch the mattress. All without any actual discomfort on the Mage’s part. Fenris was just small and Hawke, well most obviously, was anything but.  
“I can’t believe you sometimes I swear.” Fenris stated as he reached to move the fringe out of his eyes. “One minute you’re sleeping like a bear in winter, and next you’re slobbering all over me like a mad dog.”  
“It’s a gift.” Hawke said as if he was bragging almost, shrugging as he said it. “We aren’t called dog-lords for nothing.”  
Both of them somehow managed to stop playing around long enough to actually get out of bed. Fenris nearly leaped out of his skin when his feat touched the cold floor. (He swore he’d never get used to these southern winters.) Nothing could have prepared him for it. It was nearly as bad as when Hawke presses his cold hands under his tunic at random times. Fenris was fully prepared to kill him anytime he even thought about it. Most of the time Fenris caught onto him before he could do it. Nothing like the sly shit-eating grin to give away one’s plan to harass their boyfriend with freezing fingers to the ribs. Fenris swore he casted an ice-spell on his own hands each time he did it.  
And as if by magic; Fenris happened to turn in time to see Hawke’s hands reaching for his sides. Smacking at Hawke’s hands to keep the icy terror away from him. Hawke merely huffed in defeat before stumbled over in the dark to where the fireplace sat, cold and unlit. The fire having gone out while they slept. He threw a few logs in before casting a quick spell to get it relit and get the room warmed up. The fire crackled to life, sending warmth and light throughout the room. Fenris in the meantime had gotten a hold of one of Hawke’s over-sized house robes and walked over to where Hawke sat, while wearing said robe. Hawke reached up and pulled him down by the sleeve, coercing Fenris to sit in his lap.  
They never really got the chance to laze around. Always having to do something important for somebody who claimed it was for the greater good. It was really the thick snow covering all of the city gave them such an opportunity. It made it near impossible to leave the estate – let alone perform meaningless errands for the nobles of Hightown or killing hordes of bandits. So sitting in front of the fire was a rare, but greatly appreciated, moment they could spend together. Fenris couldn’t hope to get any warmer. With the heat of the fire warming his face and front, and that aforementioned living furnace to warm his back.  
They sat there long enough for rays of sunlight to actually begin to filter through the drapes. Casting light alongside the light of the fire, and lighting up the room even more. Hawke looked up towards the window and made the comment, “The sun finally graces us with its presence. I was wondering when it would show up.”  
“You’re just not used to waking up before the sun rises.” Fenris mumbled at him, having slightly passed out while they sat there.  
“Believe it or not I used to be more used to waking up before it. I did live on a farm after all.”  
“Oh yes. The life on the farm. Varric says you used to pick up and toss cows for fun.”  
“I just might pick up and toss that dwarf given the chance.”  
“No tossing our friends, Hawke.”  
“Don’t tell me what to do.”  
“You better not kiss me then.” Fenris jokes, turning to face Hawke.  
“Oh you know I’m just going to do it out of spite now.” Hawke laughs before planting a kiss to Fenris’ lips.  
Breaking apart after a few moments Fenris pulls back shaking his head, “You’re deplorable-”  
“That’s me.” Hawke interjects.  
“- and insufferable.” Fenris finishes off where Hawke had interrupted, and leaning in for another kiss.  
“What can I say? I’m a spiteful man.” Hawke states matter-of-factually before leaning in as well.  
\---------  
All before Hawke shoved his frost-tipped hands up under Fenris’ tunic, to which Fenris streaked and made an attempt to escape from Hawke’s freezing grip.  
Spiteful indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Fanfiction ever! I just really wanted to give it a shot, and here it is!


End file.
